


Stains

by JamieisClassic



Series: Everyone must breathe, until their dying breath [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Bartender AU, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Lingerie, M/M, Mentions of choking, Praise Kink, Rimming, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:30:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieisClassic/pseuds/JamieisClassic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iron Bull is away on business, Dorian is a bartender who peaks his interest. Dorian is older than he looks at first and Bull doesn't answer his phone when his wife (actually Krem) calls. Mutual attraction leads to other mutual things, and scandalizing the concierge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stains

**Author's Note:**

> Does it look like a pair of pajamas,  
> Or the ham in a temperance hotel?  
> Does its odour remind one of llamas,  
> Or has it a comforting smell?  
> Is it prickly to touch as a hedge is,  
> Or soft as eiderdown fluff?  
> Is it sharp or quite smooth at the edges?  
> Oh tell me the truth about love  
> \- WH Auden, Oh Tell Me the Truth About Love

With a sigh and a deep drink from his glass of whatever fancy liquor the bartender had said would be pleasant enough to drink copiously the Iron Bull contemplates his phone. It was ringing on the bar’s polished wood surface and while the name of his lieutenant should entice him to answer he can’t seem to find the energy. Instead he stares at it with the eyes a mother gives the baby monitor when her baby starts crying at two in the morning, though thankfully Krem is resourceful enough to deal on his own. Bull will sure as hell get an earful about it when he gets home, though.

“If that’s your wife I suggest you pick up, foreign business trips and unanswered nightly calls have been the cause of many a divorce,” the bartender tells him, holding up the bottle of whatever Bull’s been drinking to offer a refill. When Bull doesn’t reply he adds, “On the house?” 

The Bull snorts, “No thanks, you’re sweet though. It’s not my wife, by the way, don’t got myself one of those.”

“Haven’t found the right gal?” the bartender asks, and however comfortably, heterosexually normal the question is his gaze is more calculating than need would be.

“If you’re trying to figure out if I’m straight, or rather  _ not  _ straight, all you had to do was ask. No need for dodgy questions.” 

The bartender barks out a laugh that hardly sounds genuinely amused and something more closely akin to mocking, “And if all men were such open books I’d have married rich and not be flirting my way into tips nightly.”

“Are tips all you’re flirting yourself into here? If so I should let you know I’m on company money and I need no convincing to spend my boss’ money where rightly due,” The Bull says, and adds to himself that if Josephine or even Trevelyan say this beautiful flower they would happily pay him to smile for the company if it meant he ate properly -- which judging my his slightly hollowed cheeks and very defined collarbones he wasn’t. 

“Good thing I work in a hotel bar where all the international business people drink away their stress and loneliness then isn’t it,” his eyes crinkled at the corners and Bull considered him more closely. 

Initially, from even a close distance, the man looked maybe 23, an air of confidence held like a mask around a young man out of his depth or perhaps comfort being the center of international business people’s drunken flirtations. However, with the man leaning over the bar to smile -- rather flirtatiously -- at Bull he looked older, small wrinkles around his eyes mostly covered by concealer and kohl but still visible, and the light scent of cologne something recalling class rather than coyness. The man was probably closer to 30 than Bull had assumed and somehow that made him intriguing enough to ask after.

“So, what’s your name, mister business man?” the bartender asked him and Bull pulled himself out of his own head.

“The Iron Bull. What’s your name, kid?” He paused a beat before the word ‘kid’ and the bartender grimaced. 

“Are you asking my name and calling me kid or suggesting my name is ‘Kid’, I cannot tell with your drunken use of punctuation,” the Bull was thrown an awfully charming smile despite the sass as he added, “It’s Dorian.” 

“Well then Dorian, can I buy you a drink?” The Bull gave him a one eyed wink and the younger man looked mildly pained, though at the suggestion or the action Bull couldn’t be sure.

“If it wasn’t quite apparent to you already I happen to be working,” Dorian sighed, “Also, if you just tried to wink at me despite only having one eye I need to rethink my position on accepting that drink once I get off shift.”

“Don’t say shit like that if you’re not gonna tell me when that is,” Bull grumbled and Dorian laughed -- a real laugh this time and the mirth in his eyes made Bull match his devious smile.

“About ten minutes actually. We’re closed already, technically, I’m just letting you stay because you’re… Well I would say cute but I’m not sure that fits you very well.” Dorian chuckled to himself, “On that note actually I’d better start cleaning up, you done with that glass?” 

Bull offered it silently and watched as Dorian bustled around the bar cleaning up the remaining glasses and putting things away until the place looked like it had when they opened. Not that Bull had been here all day, rather that he’d stopped in in the morning to get an espresso before his meetings, though why the bar served espresso he wasn’t sure. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who liked an afternoon caffeine fix. 

By the time Dorian had everything sorted and had gotten back from getting his things from the staff room it was just past two and Bull, though intent on sitting them down in a decent place to chat, wasn’t sure what they would find open that wouldn’t be kicking them out in half an hour. 

“I’ll fancy a guess you know this city better than I, any decent pubs open past three?” Bull asked, glancing down at the man standing next to him outside the bar doors. 

“I believe I do actually.” Dorian gave him a coy smile, and even if Bull wasn’t the most fond of coy looked he had to admit they suited Dorian’s face quite well.

“Lead the way,” the Bull said with matching gesture. Dorian just shook his head and started walking. 

They ended up heading further into town than the rather centrally placed hotel already was and as they walked past many bars with patrons exiting for the night, Dorian lead then through a small side street and down a steep staircase to… a sushi restaurant of all things.

“Before you ask questions, let me order us some tea,” Dorian said at the door as he held up two fingers to the girl that grabbed them menus and lead them to a table.

A woman came out of the back a little while later asking after their order, to which Dorian replied something in quick Korean, though one of the words sounded suspiciously like ‘Heineken’.

“Did you just order us Heineken tea?” Bull asked and Dorian just snorted.

“What would we do without 24 hour sushi restaurants right?” the men laughed together.

Their beers arrived shortly and they drank in comfortable silence for a little while. Bull appreciated the way Dorian’s throat moved around his drink and Dorian admired the cut of Bull’s blazer against his wrists. Different focuses, perhaps, but oh so similar intentions. However, Bull was, admittedly, quite drunk and Dorian looked rather worn from what was probably a long day dealing with self-important people who thought their close approaching drunkenness was of utmost importance. For this reason and nothing else did Bull not know precisely where to start the conversation -- to much small talk and he’d never get to ask real questions, but Dorian wasn’t drunk and the deep ones needed some foreplay. Bull almost giggled at his own thought but stopped himself in time for Dorian to speak up.

“So The Iron Bull, what is it you do for a living, exactly?” he gave The Bull a calculating look.

Bull shrugged, “I’m a businessman. Simple as that.” 

Dorian made a disapproving sound, “Yes, yes, standard businessman, built like an ox, named The Iron Bull -- article and everything -- missing an eye. Definitely like every other person I serve overpriced drinks to in an evening.” 

“Alright, maybe you got a point,” Bull sighed, he hadn’t come here to talk about himself but he supposed there were worse things, “I own and operate a private firm of contracting lawyers, we typically get hired out individually to go work some shit between two companies or whatever out, help ‘em have something to sign and agree upon. Sometimes it’s simple stuff like new revenue division between partners but recently we got hired, and by we I mean my whole firm, by that company ‘Inquisition’, sure you’ve heard of ‘em.”

“So you, a giant mountain of a man, sit behind a desk and type out well detailed and loopholed contracts for big important people like the Inquisition?” he didn’t seem to think Bull was lying, though, more that he wasn’t being given the whole truth.

“Well, on the side me and my man Krem run a rugby team called the Bull’s Chargers, if that helps you sum up the image.” Bull challenged with a grin Dorian’s deadpan at the words ‘Bull’s Chargers’ which made the smaller man chuckle.

“I suppose that does finish off the image, yes,” he paused for a moment looking almost introspective, “And I’m to presume you would like to ask after me?” 

“That’s what I was going for,” Bull gave him an easy smile that, though returned, seemed stained in a way not perceptible to the eye, “If that’s alright, of course.”

“I don’t mind at all! I do love talking about myself. One of my favourite subjects, really, what did you want to know?” Dorian held himself to full height in his chair now, but somehow the light in his eyes diminished as if blocked by something. Bull had never seen such a well built mask in many, many years. 

“Well, first of all, where is it you’re from?” 

“Ah, lovely little country called Iraq, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. Wonderful palm trees and fresh dates every year, the sweets they sell here are dirt in comparison to what fresh dates taste like.” He threw a charming smile along with the little rant and Bull continued.

“So how is if you find yourself here?” Bull hoped that was an easy question to answer, not some source of pain.

“A little complicated that, but mainly I prefer the social ideals here, specifically surrounding certain proclivities I enjoy and what I like to eat. My home is, while lovely, a bit traditional for my tastes at times.” There was something more under that but Bull wouldn’t pry, “I’m actually a doctor, you know. Full medical degree and everything from one of the best universities in the east. Not valid here though, not ‘proper medicine’ back home or something I suppose, sad really how they let me in but don’t let me give to the society what I’m truly able.”

“You’re a doctor? So like Dr. Handsome, M.D, just like General Hospital?” Bull nudged his feet under the table and Dorian rolled his eyes.

“Yes, precisely like general hospital. Well as long as all the hot nurses are men, then we’re good.” His eyes curled with mirth again and Bull really starts to like that look on him. Think he’d like him flushed with his hands tied behind his back too, but that has yet to be tested. 

“That makes you, what, 30 now?” Dorian nods, taking a long drink of his beer, neck clearly on display when he drinks and mouth very subtly obscene it its release of the glass bottle. It’s almost as if he’d read Bull’s thoughts. 

“So Dorian, can I ask you something?”

Dorian tsked, “So many questions.” 

“You wanna fuck me right, or want me to fuck you, or whatever, right?” Bull watched him sputter and almost choke on his drink, which was frankly amusing considering how casually sensual he’d been mere minutes ago.

“Excuse me?” Dorian looked scandalized but Bull just laughed.

“Slow down big guy I thought that was where this was going’s all.” He didn’t think, though, he knew. He also knew if he didn’t give the younger man space he would probably run.

“Well…” Dorian announced the word loudly enough but didn’t seem to know where he was going with the sentence, “I. I would actually quite like that yes. Not tonight though, you seem to be quite drunk. I don’t do drunk, unless I am as well, but that is a different matter. When are you heading home? I mean  _ home _ home, when is your trip over?”

“I’ll be around for another week at least, trying to clear up some business with a rival organization, propaganda work and such. Not fun but necessary. You could come up to my room when you’re done work one day, if you want?” Bull offered.

“Perhaps a day I don’t work, I’m always so dreadfully tired after making money. Less energy for,” Dorian gave a pointed look across Bull’s shoulders and chest, “other things… I don’t work tomorrow if you’ve the time.” 

“I’m in room 407, come up any time after six I’ll be around.” Bull tossed him a leer and reveled as he preened in it, “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“Says the drunk one. I should walk you home.” Dorian laughed, placing some bills on the table, and Bull followed suit and they headed back up the steep stairs to the street.

Once they’d reached the main walk Dorian took the liberty of hailing for Bull one of the cabs lingering about and made a point to look offended when Bull smacked his ass as he walked away. 

 

It was just passing 6:15 the next evening when Bull heard a knock from his hotel door and he rushed to answer it. Most likely his room service had arrived, hopefully it was Dorian. 

When the door swung open to reveal and neatly dressed man with a cart of food and champagne Bull had to fight to keep the disappointment from his eyes, he had said anytime after six and nothing more, but as he thanked the man and welcomed him in to deliver the dishes he heard footsteps approaching from down the hall. This time it was Dorian and the grin that came to his face couldn’t have been held at bay if he’d wanted. 

“I see I’ve come to a feast,” Dorian gave him a smirk, “And here I thought I would be the main course.” 

“Nah, I was always told that dessert came at the end of the meal. More than once if he played his cards right.” Bull spoke casually and quietly, but clearly the concierge caught his meaning and made a very hasty retreat to the hall. 

“Look what you’ve done, scaring poor Esteban.” Dorian chastised him with a laugh.

“Is his name actually Esteban?” Bull cocked an eyebrow, or what would be one but was now mostly scars and mess.

“No, it’s Richard, but that is beside the point.” Dorian sniffed and Bull bellowed a laugh.

“Come on big guy, let’s eat.” 

And so they sat at the little table the hotel room provided and chatted about mundane things while picking at a cheese platter and giving each other positively lecherous looks. Eventually the visual exchange became a sort of competition that both were determined to win. What they won, who could say, but some sense of pride was always associated with lasting the longest. Bull was patient and controlled enough to win. Dorian was not. He was, however, willing to cheat, and though deciding to do so was a fortit of some form he sat back with his champagne in hand, loosening his tie and spreading his legs for Bull’s visual pleasure to watch the older man’s resolve crumble. 

“You’re a nasty little tease, aren’t you?” Bull rumbled, enjoying how Dorian’s cock twitched in his pants from the timber of his voice. 

“Why call me names when there are such better things you could do with that mouth,” Dorian leered. Bull thought it was cute.

“Hush boy, I can call you what you are,” Dorian shivered at his words, “And right now you’re being a nasty, dirty little tease.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right. Why don’t you come over here and do something about it.” Dorian’s voice was tight despite the nonchalance of his words, his slowly growing arousal evident through the black chinos he wore. 

“No.” Bull said flatly, “You come over here when you’re ready and place that pretty little ass in my lap and tell me what you want me to do to it. ‘Till then we stay just like this.”  

Dorian huffed, “Preposterous, you invite me up here and buy me food but don’t want to do anything.”

“Oh I want to do many things, everything you can imagine and more but this is about you, too, what you want. More importantly, I want, expect you to do what I tell you to. I told you to come over here, and until you do you’re going to sit there with a hard cock in your pants thinking about my hands around your throat.” Bull stretched his hand around the arm of his chair for emphasis and Dorian almost whined. 

While he’d had a fair share of men in his bed he’d never been told what to do, not in such a direct and commanding way, and it was making his blood run unexpectedly hot. How Bull knew he wanted a hand around his throat -- or around his wrists or rough in his hair for that matter -- Dorian had no idea but he  _ wanted _ them and damn it if he had to work for it, or even beg for it, he would. With that mentally resolved he pushed himself from his chair, setting the champagne down on the table, and crawled into Bull’s lap.

“That’s it, boy, now tell me what you want.” Bull’s voice was low, and though the words lacked the sharp edge of command, Dorian knew he needed to follow them like one. All he could do was whimper. “Start simple if you want, something easy to ask for. A kiss perhaps, or a hand on your ass.” 

Dorian felt like a child in every good way he’d never imagined existed, and when he quietly exhaled the words, “Kiss me please,” against Bull’s shoulder he didn’t expect the rush that flushed through him at the press of lips on his. He couldn’t name the feeling but pushed that aside in favour of champagne tinged lips sucking on his bottom lip. To say the Bull kissed thoroughly would be an understatement, and Dorian soon has his mouth ravaged by teeth and tongue alike -- no inch of lips unbitten, no expanse of gum or teeth untouched. And  _ fuck _ did that thick tongue in his mouth not make Dorian desperate for something thicker and bitter instead, but the heat of Bull against his chest kept him placated. 

That is, until he ground down into Bull’s lap and felt the larger man’s cock jump against his. Then he needed, so deeply in his body did he need to feel that in his throat he was willing to pull away and ask for it, “I want you to fuck my mouth.”

“You know what you’re asking for boy?” Bull gave him a level look, but the care was there, and Dorian nodded, “Okay, I’m gonna give you my belt to hold onto, you drop it if it gets to be too much, or you want to stop for whatever reason. The buckle will make a noise when you drop it and I will stop, no questions asked, no blame placed, understand?”

“Yes.” Dorian said quietly, nodding his understanding as he was ushered off of Bull’s lap to kneel in front of him. 

Bull removed his belt first, and pressed the buckle firmly into Dorian’s hand before directing them behind the smaller man’s back. He removed his own dress pants and boxers only to the extent necessary as he stood and placed a hand at the back of Dorian’s head to guide him forward. Dorian was eager, rushing forward to meet the cock presented to him with licks and sucks until it was angled for him to take properly and he gave up control to Bull, who growled as he cock slipped past soft lips into the slick heat of Dorian’s mouth. He started slowly, thrusting shallowly and petting the dark hair below him with murmurs of praise. 

His pace picked up quickly, deepening the thrusts until the skimmed the back of Dorian’s throat and he muttered, “Good boy, taking my cock to well,” into the air as the smaller man sucked at his cock with desperation unmatched, as if nothing would make him happier than having the whole of Bull’s length shoved down his throat. So Dorian leaned into every thrust through his lips despite the pull in his hair and groaned when Bull pushed deeper into his throat. It was glorious to him, the smell and taste and forcefulness of the body pressing into him, taking from him, because despite all the rough tugging in his scalp and the ache in his jaw there was a litany of ‘good boy’s and ‘you’re so good’s falling on him and he felt like he was floating away on pain and praise and deep seated arousal. 

The Bull pulled him away as he felt himself start to slip. He had promised the younger man two orgasms and there was no way he was keeping up with that if he came now. So he tugged Dorian away from his cock with a strong tug in the hair and returned to sitting in his chair, though not before shedding his pants and boxers fully. 

Dorian, for his part, simply stayed kneeling on the floor looking utterly debauched -- lips swollen, red, and slick, face flushed and hair tousled from the Bull’s rough tugs. There were tears at the corner of his eyes and he still held the belt buckle bruisingly tight in his hand. “Let go of my belt and come sit on my lap, sweetie,” Bull prompted him and he jumped to do as he’d been asked. It was such a different reaction than he’d had at the beginning Bull wanted to ask if he was okay, but the smaller man raised one perfectly shaped, perfectly sassy eyebrow and he already knew the answer. 

“You’ve been so good for me, boy. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you.” Bull stroked Dorian’s back soothingly as he settled in the older man’s lap.

“I rather think I do,” a smile spread across swollen lips and Bull leaned down to kiss it from them. 

“Take of your clothes for me then, I’ll stroke your pretty little cock until you’re screaming.” The words sent a shiver through Dorian as he hurried to follow Bull’s instructions. He began by removing his tie, setting it neatly on the table, before letting his deep maroon button up slip to the floor. Pausing at the button of his chinos, Bull almost reminded him to remove it all, but Dorian continued by unfastening the pants and removing them with his socks simultaneously, leaving him standing before Bull in nothing but a silk a lace thong when he looked up hesitantly. Bull simply shook his head and beckoned him back over, and when a nearly naked Dorian stood before him he stood from the chair while tossing the younger man over his shoulder. He may not be that young anymore, but if he could spar with Krem he could carry Dorian to bed.

Depositing the younger man with a thump onto the mattress, Bull promptly flipped him onto his stomach and dragged his ass into the air. Dorian gasped at the tight grip on his hips and Bull chuckled as he leaned over the smaller man to growl into his ear, “I’m gonna eat this pretty ass, boy, that alright?” 

Dorian nodded with a groan, “Please.” 

“So pretty,” Bull muttered as he nibbled down Dorian’s back, nipping where the skin was taunter and biting down where there was enough available flesh to leave a mark until the smaller man was mewling and squirming from the tease. Removing one hand from its grip at his hips, Bull tugged the band of his panties and let it snap sharply against his lower back, chuckling at the sound it drew from him. He planted one firm kiss on each of Dorian’s ass cheeks before stroking his thumb between them, grazing over the sensitive puckered flesh there. This motion he repeated twice before sliding away the fabric that was there and continuing the motion of his thumb, but with his tongue instead. A firmer press against that puckered skin had Dorian whining and as he felt the muscle slowly give way to his tongue the smaller man shook. Bull continued the shallow motion, pressing in slightly only to back away and massage the surrounding area, and only when Dorian’s mewls became breathy pleas did he begin pushing in with more intent. He pushed in harder, stretching the man beneath him wider and bringing him closer to the edge with every thrust and curl of his tongue. 

Dorian shook -- thighs trembling from need and cock leaking constant pearls of fluid into his satin panties. Reedy as his voice was with every plea he begged and whined and pushed back against Bull’s mouth as his body climbed and tightened like and burned so gloriously it was too much, almost. And Bull’s hand was spreading his ass to give the man more room while the other, the one previously still on Dorian’s hip, wrapped around Dorian’s cock through the satin and stroked him, not quickly, but not without purpose, until the younger man was sobbing into a release as his body finally had what it needed to come undone. 

Bull pulled away slowly, relishing the feel and smell of the smaller man. His ears still rang with the harsh sob of this climax and Bull thrummed with it, reveled in Dorian’s pleasure as much as the man himself did. “Good boy,” spilled reverently from Bull’s lips like some sort of blessing and Dorian shone with it, glowed with the praise, “Such a good boy for me.” 

Dorian rolled over and smiled up at Bull, post coital and soft, and Bull just smiled back. The younger man’s eyes trailed Bull’s body and frowned slightly at the sight of his still erect cock, “I could take care of that if you’d like.”

“Not yet, I still need to get you ready to come again,” Bull said in full seriousness but Dorian just laughed.

“You’ll be waiting until morning I’m afraid, never was one for quick recoveries. I’m just too dramatic I suppose.” Dorian gave him a light smile and gestured with his hand for Bull to come closer, “I’m sure you’re not far away after all this, allow me, please.” 

Bull moved farther up the bed and allowed Dorian to take him in hand. It wasn’t what he’d pictured, letting Dorian take over at the end but when the smaller man wrapped a soft but firm hand around his heavy length and pressed a deep kiss to his mouth it didn’t matter quite what he’d wanted because in the moment what he was given was all he could bring himself to want. With a growl into Dorian’s mouth he came in Dorian’s hand and watched, slightly dazed, as the man licked his hand clean. Dorian just chuckled and kept kissing him.

 

“I hope you know these really quite expensive panties are now most likely stained,” Dorian remarked later as they lay in Bull’s bed and continued to eat from the cheese platter.

“I’m sure if you bring them to a good dry cleaners they can get it out,” Bull shrugged.

“Sure, they can get the come out, and they’ll be damn thrilled about it I’m sure, but I’m talking about the fact that I’ll think of this, of you, every time I wear them,” Dorian elbowed Bull’s side lightly, “How am I supposed to go on dates when you eating my ass is the only thing on my mind?” 

“You could go on dates with me, that might help,” Bull smirked at him, it earned him a swat.

“Yes, and scare poor Esteban again, or someone of a similarly fragile nature? I think not.” Dorian sniffed pointedly.

Bull laughed, “I thought you said that guy was named Richard.”

“Oh just hush you,” Dorian said, kissing him to keep him quiet. 

**Author's Note:**

> Alright I hope this was decent. Sorry about all the grammar shit its late and I don't feel like editing coz 4 hrs of mandarin Chinese class tomorrow. ugh. Anyhow I hope y'all enjoyed and I do wanna mention that the whole Heineken tea thing is based on a story my dad told be about a couple of his buddys who, no joke, went to a sushi restaurant late at night and got "tea" but it was actually beer. IDK I just thought it was funny.


End file.
